Page 28

Kat lay sprawled across Leo’s chest, her cheek pressed against his skin. A tremor ran through her, aftershocks of pleasure radiating beneath her flushed skin.

She traced a lazy pattern across his torso, fingers skimming the golden hairs that caught in the morning light. His chest rose and fell beneath her, slow and steady. His heartbeat thudded deep beneath the bone, grounding her.

She had wanted him since the first time she saw him, all those years ago in Oslo.

“We should eat,” he murmured, rolling onto one elbow to face her. His eyes searched hers, unreadable. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

He ran a single finger across the curve of her shoulder. The touch was feather-light, but a shiver still rippled through her. Minutes ago, he had been inside her, and still her body ached for him.

She’d never felt anything like this. Not just the sex—though God, the sex. It was the stillness afterward, the weight of him solid and warm beside her.

She braced for the usual flicker of regret, the urge to armor back up. It never came.

Leo pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then collected the tray from the dresser.

He poured coffee, then reached for a croissant, split it open, and buttered it for her without asking—as if he’d done it a hundred times before. As if knowing how she took her breakfast was just another part of keeping her safe.

“Just the way you like it.” He handed her a cup, and she took a grateful sip. The bitter heat cut through the fog in her head.

She took a bite of croissant. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

They ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t uncomfortable. But the space between them was both too wide and not nearly wide enough.

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

She glanced up, a piece of cheese halfway to her mouth. The words hung in the air. “No one?”

“No.” He stared into his coffee like it held the answer to something. “This place… it’s always been just mine.”

She studied his face, the tension carved around his handsome mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice low. “For letting me in.”

He stared down at his palms—the same ones that had killed, that had traced the contours of her body with reverence. “There’s something you should know about me.” His voice remained steady, but tension lifted the line of his shoulders.

“About why I keep people at a distance. Why I never thought I deserved…” His hand moved between them, encompassing the tangled sheets, the impossible intimacy they’d just shared. “This.”

Kat waited. She reached out, her fingertips grazing his shoulder where tension had gathered like armor. The muscle jumped beneath her touch, a silent betrayal of his struggle to find the words for what he needed to tell her.

She’d heard whispers about his unit, the VARG Unit. The Wolf Unit. A ghost team that handled the missions even special forces wouldn’t touch. Operators who moved through enemy territory leaving nothing but strategic silence in their wake.

But whispers hadn’t prepared her for what she saw now—the human cost etched into the lines of his face.

Leo’s eyes stayed fixed on the middle distance.

“Intelligence said the compound would be clear of civilians.” The scar near his eye whitened as his jaw clenched. “They were fucking wrong.”

His voice landed heavy in the room, burdened by memory. “We’d been tracking the cell for months. They’d orchestrated three bombings. Killed seventeen civilians. Our orders were explicit. Neutralize the leadership.”

He exhaled slow and hot against her skin.

“The compound was on the outskirts of Sangin. Mud walls, flat roof. Typical compound.” His head dropped. “Breach was at 02:00. I took point. First room—clear. Second—clear. Then the main chamber?—”

His words tumbled, rushing past some unseen dam.

He swallowed.

“There were children there. Five of them. Maybe four to ten years old. Used like barricades. Fucking human shields for grown men.”

He exhaled sharply, then rubbed at his temple like he could scrape the memory free.

“The youngest was a little girl. She had on mismatched socks. One pink, one with a cartoon bear.” His voice cracked, barely audible now. “That’s what I saw first. The socks. Stupid, right?”

His jaw worked, and the details spilled out like shrapnel. “She had this plastic dinosaur clutched in her hand. Bright green, like something from a Happy Meal.”

The image formed in her mind with terrible clarity—tiny bodies positioned in front of armed men. Her training had prepared her for many things, but never for the true weight of impossible choices.

She’d always seen Leo as unflinching. But now she understood what those decisions had cost him.

“Their leader looked right at me. Over this little girl’s head.” His voice cracked. “He smiled, Kat. He fucking smiled—like it was checkmate.”

His hands fisted on his thighs, knuckles drained of color.

“He went for his gun. I had maybe half a second.”

An ache moved down her throat. She wanted to pull him into her arms, soothe the anguish marking his eyes.

“I took the shot. Right between the eyes. He went down.”

He hunched forward as if guarding something deep inside.

“His men panicked. Opened fire before my team could react. So much screaming and blood. So much fucking blood.”

Briefly, he buried his face in his hands as if he could wipe the memory away.

“Three kids died.” He looked directly at her then, his eyes holding a devastation so complete it made her throat ache. “The youngest couldn’t have been over five.”

“I carried them out myself. Scrubbed their blood off my hands while my CO called it acceptable collateral damage . I requested a transfer the next day.”

His chest rose in a sharp, defensive breath. This man, who moved through the world with lethal grace, had been carrying ghosts alone for years.

She’d kept people at arm’s length to protect herself from vulnerability, while he’d done the same to protect others from what he believed was his darkness.

Except the walls he’d built weren’t to keep people out. They were to keep guilt in.

Kat reached for his hand and smoothed the pad of her thumb across his skin. Rough and scarred from a lifetime of choices no one should have to make. The vulnerability in his eyes almost undid her.

This wasn’t the controlled operative she’d worked with, sparred with—watched from a calculated distance. This was her Leonid laid bare, offering her the darkest corners of himself.

She didn’t offer empty comfort. Instead, she held his gaze. “That’s not on you, Leonid.”

“Three children are dead because of a decision I made.”

“No.” She shook her head once. “Three children are dead because they were put in an impossible situation by people who saw them as tools rather than human beings. You made the only choice you could with what you had.”

Her words didn’t absolve him. Nothing could. But perhaps they might create a small crack in the fortress of his guilt.

She’d reached for Leo when everything fell apart. Not because he was safe, but because she trusted him with her life.

Now he was trusting her with something far more fragile—his truth.

Maybe choosing connection wasn’t weakness after all. Maybe it was the bravest thing either of them could do.

“Being with you feels like walking through a minefield I planted myself,” he said, his voice quiet, stripped of its usual control. “Every step closer, I’m waiting for something to blow up. And if it does—I won’t be the one who pays for it. You will.”

He looked at her then, the truth of it carved deep into his expression. “I don’t know how to be close without being dangerous.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “Stop walking like you’re trying not to set anything off. I know where the mines are, Leo. I see them and I still choose to be here.”

Her hand tightened around his. “You think you’re dangerous to me? I’ve been standing in fire my whole damn life. But you… you’re the only place I’ve ever felt steady.”

Leonid. The man she’d respected from a professional distance for years. Her first thought when her world had collapsed.

“I want to protect you,” he said. “Not just from Korolov or Eldridge. From everything.”

She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. “Leonid. I don’t need protection.”

“I know. You are formidable, brilliant, capable.” His thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles. “But I want to give it, anyway.”

She studied him for a long moment. Her palm rubbed against his.

“Leonid. When this is over, when my name is cleared and Korolov is dealt with—what then?”

Return to their separate corners? Pretend this never happened? Try to build something neither of them had made room for in their lives?

Before yesterday, after hadn’t been part of her vocabulary. But now she wanted to try.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I want to find out.”

Not a promise of forever—but an acknowledgment. Whatever this was between them, it didn’t end here.

Kat lifted his hand and pressed it over her heart. “Then we’ll find out together.”

For a heartbeat, she wanted to memorize this—his thumb on her palm, his warmth against her.

But reality intruded.

Korolov’s phone. Security footage that could prove Eldridge’s betrayal. Evidence that could clear her name and bring down the people trying to destroy her.

Leo’s hand rested against hers. He felt it too.

“We should...” she started, then stopped, unwilling to break the spell.

“I know.” His voice was rough with reluctance. He shifted, then seemed to think better of it, his arm sliding around her instead. “Five more minutes.”

She smiled against his skin. “We don’t have five minutes.”

“Then sixty seconds.” His lips found her temple. “One minute where it’s just us. No Korolov, no Eldridge, no conspiracy.”

The temptation was overwhelming—to sink back into his warmth and forget the world outside. But they couldn’t linger in this bubble they’d created, no matter how much she wanted to.

The vibration of his phone on the nightstand cracked the quiet like a gunshot.

Reality was back, impatient and loud.

“We should contact Eli,” she said, ignoring the phone, her fingers stubbornly entwined with his. “See if he’s decrypted Korolov’s phone.”

Leo nodded, the transition from vulnerable to vigilant happening in the space between heartbeats. “And check the security footage. Once we confirm Eldridge and Korolov’s meeting?—”

She sat up straighter, mentally planning a to-do list. “We’ll have our link.”

“Yes.” His smile touched his eyes, igniting light in their depths. “Time to clear your name and bring Korolov down.”